Just Another Night at Freddy's: Night One: Foxy's Freedom
by DeltaV
Summary: The first in my planned series of stories set two weeks after the 7th Night. The animatronics aren't out to get Mike anymore, but that still doesn't mean the end of his problems when he finds his keys to the front door missing... Rated T for big boy language.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note: Don't get used to seeing me up here. Hypocritical as my doing this is, I'm actually not a fan of these at the top. Gets in the way of the good stuff, in my opinion. Anyway, I wanted to clear up a few things before we get the ball rolling. One: Bonnie's female. I know the creator said otherwise, but I had this idea before I learned of it. Two: The reason the animatronics attacked the guards in this story is the Phone Guy's reasoning that they assumed they were endoskeletons out of place. That remains unconfirmed, but there is nothing paranormal (ghosts, demons, etc.), in this story. Just intelligent robots with a creepy amount of sentience. Now then, I'm done, there isn't gonna be a bottom Note on this chapter and for the future, they'll be at the bottom so you can easily scroll down past them if you don't care. Also, flame me if you want. I'm a firefighter. Enjoy.**_

Chapter 1: Just Another Night

As security guard Mike Schmidt collapsed in his roller chair, tablet resting on his desk and angled to his face by his right hand, Freddy stood in his spot onstage. It had been two weeks since Mike first got this job as night guard, and now everything seemed routine. Unbeknownst to Schmidt, the animatronics had, through observation of Mike, made the realization that he was not an endoskeleton needing to be put back into uniform, and was simply part of the staff, like they saw during the day.

But Mike didn't need to know. After years of scaring previous night guards (who were, as far as they were concerned, "out of uniform"), Freddy and the others had gotten a morbid satisfaction out causing as much terror to the poor guard as they could. But now… Well Mike was a little bit different. He never got caught, for one, but he also kept coming back, and not just each night. After his first week, Mike had taken a liking to the 'bots, crazy as it sounds, and took to seeing them during the day, sometimes even talking with them. Freddy and his band were "on duty" most of the time, and didn't react, while Foxy remained disabled. Management had made it clear years ago that anything resembling their Free Roam programming was forbidden during the day.__

__This was what was on Freddy's mind as the clock struck midnight, and he felt himself loosen up. A series of whirs and clacks from either side indicated that Chica and Bonnie were feeling much the same, and getting ready to wander about. Freddy stayed, focusing on a realization that had befallen the others as well. They actually _liked_ Mike.

What did it for Foxy was rather obvious, once Mike had a rather one-sided conversation in Pirate's Cove one day. After being locked up for nearly 20 years, Foxy appreciated the attention. Chica was also swayed rather quickly, when Mike had asked (again, during the day), possibly sarcastically, if she actually made any pizza. Needless to say, Mike had a delivery order that night. Apparently he liked it, and let her know the next day.

Bonnie and Freddy arrived to this conclusion much later, Freddy himself just now. While the animatronics don't interact all that much, Chica and Foxy did share their small bit of joy they received from Mike's various actions. Seeing the other two a little happier made Bonnie instantly like Mike, while Freddy realized the lack of assumption they were mindless killing machines had pushed him to join Mike's "fan club."

But again. Mike didn't need to know. It's not like they could waltz right up and tell him anyway. Nice as he was to them, the security doors were always closed when they got close. This rather dismayed Bonnie, who wanted to thank him, but understood Mike's caution. He wasn't the first guard. So now, Freddy and his friends stopped trying to get Mike back in "uniform," and were content to pester him, maybe even scare him from time to time. Foxy certainly did.

A faint "beep" drew Freddy from his thoughts as the stage camera's red light blinked on, signaling Mike was currently watching him, and making the realization that Bonnie and Chica had left. The light was off rather quickly. Across the Dining Hall, the camera aimed at Pirate's Cove blinked on, and Foxy was already starting to peer out behind the curtain, ready to make his latest charge. He wasn't going to hurt Mike, but making the guard jump seemed to amuse him greatly. Freddy chuckled to himself.

_Just another night, _he thought.

Foxy snickered to himself as he watch the camera light blink on, then almost instantly blink back off.

_The lad must be jumpy tonight_, he thought, and continued waiting, inching out again to continue his tradition of slowly leaving the curtain before sprinting for the office. Seeing Mike jump back when he slammed himself into the window still got a kick out of the old pirate. But interestingly, the camera didn't blink back on. Foxy turned towards the Show Stage, seeing Freddy decide to finally get up and move around, and watched the cameras both at the stage and dining hall. They remained off.

Usually, Mike kept up a sweeping scan of the place, just a few seconds on each camera every so often to make sure everything was okay, but still conserve power. Foxy waited at least 10 minutes, but still none of the cameras activated. Freddy and the others didn't seem to notice, since Chica could be heard clanging in the kitchen, Bonnie was looking at some new drawings that had been tacked onto the notice board, and Freddy was absent mindedly organizing chairs.

_Well if he ain't be paying 'Ol Foxy no mind…_ he thought, lowering his eye patch and pushing up his dangling jaw with his hook. _Then I'll pay him some. _Foxy then launched himself down the West Hall.

Mike was _tired._ Not just run-of-the-mill tired, he was _exhausted._ Freddy's, always short staffed, asked Mike to help with a really large birthday party, the first in months. Mike had agreed, naturally assuming he would act as guard, simply having to watch the cameras and keep an eye on things, maybe take a nap or two, but he was dead wrong.

They asked Mike to help _chaperone_ the party, since most of the parents just wanted them to be the restaurant and birthday boy's parent's problem for "just a few hours," the manager said. A few hours turned into the beginning of Mike's shift, as the 2 other adults (parents) other than himself couldn't keep an eye on everyone. The kids had made a huge mess of the dining area, throwing food, plates, chairs, even each other. Then when Freddy and his band began their show, they threw food at them. The party lasted until the pizzeria closed at 8:00, and when the custodian arrived, he chewed out Mike so vigorously he was left with no choice but to help the old man, who wouldn't go near Freddy. After spending the next 3 and a half hours cleaning up the place, Mike all but fell into his chair.

But unfortunately for Mike, by the time all was said and done, there were only about 15 minutes until the start of his shift. So he pressed on, looking at the stage and seeing that Chica and Bonnie were already absent, then flicking over to Pirate Cove to find Foxy peering out at him. Then the fatigue took hold, and, for the first time, Mike did something he had long vowed never to do while on duty. Mike fell asleep.

Foxy rounded the corner and was surprised to see the security door wide open.

_Hrm. That be odd,_ he thought, raising his eye patch and looking through the window. He saw Mike, slumped over his desk, the tablet he used lying face up near his forearms. The subtle rise and fall of his back made Foxy immediately throw out the idea he was dead. He took a step inside, a soft _clunk_ sounding as his metal feet landed on the thin carpeting of the office.

Seeing no reaction from Mike, Foxy took another step, then another, eventually towering over his sleeping form. Foxy pushed his jaw back into place thoughtfully, and realized he had never really been in Mike's office. Usually they escorted the other, non-human guards straight to the Backstage. They usually weren't too happy to be put back in uniform, but rules were rules, and it didn't leave much time for exploration. So Foxy took in his surroundings. It wasn't a very big office, but at least he and all his 7 feet of height could stand up straight, and he could stand next to Mike without feeling too cramped. Foxy then looked down at the tablet on the desk, and tapped it experimentally. The screen didn't react to the cold metal, and he quickly became bored with it.

Then Foxy noticed the keys. They were hanging on the wall behind Mike. Instantly curious, Foxy pushed Mike back with his foot, ignoring the soft grunt when the chair rolled back into the wall, and continuing towards this new object. There were about four of these things on a small metal circle, which was hung on a nail pounded into the wall. Catching the ring on his hook, Foxy lifted the keys to his face and fiddled with them . They made a surprisingly loud jingling noise, so Foxy quickly rotated his head 180 degrees to glance back at Mike, before turning all the way around again after confirming he was still asleep.

_Now, what do these be for?_ Foxy wondered. He had seen keys before, he himself had one for the large treasure chest in Pirate's Cove, but Foxy was convinced Mike didn't have treasure here (though he did look around briefly.) Instead, Foxy searched his memory for other uses of keys, remembering his chest, a small girl's diary, and…

_O'course! The door!_ Foxy remembered, snapping his head in the direction of the main entrance. He recalled seeing Mike use these to let himself out at six the instant his shift ended that first week, much more anxious to leave than he was now. Proud of his memory, Foxy left through the open right security door and made his way to the main entrance, where he was again faced with another dilemma.

As he had seen, there were four keys dangling from the ring on his hook, but only one lock on the door. However, Foxy was an experienced old sea dog as far as he was concerned, and quickly found the key that fit the lock. Turning it around, Foxy heard a small click, and gave the door and experimental push. It swung free of the frame, and a light breeze drifted in. Foxy took a few steps out, his feet clanking and clunking on the hard concrete, and then stood stock still. For the first time, he realized, he was _outside the pizzeria_. Even Freddy had never stepped one foot out the door. His face curving up into a grin, he tossed the keys aside, pushed his jaw up with his hook, lowered his eye patch, and ran out into the night


	2. Chapter 2

Mike jolted awake we heard a large clanging noise sound down the hall. Rolling himself back towards his desk, he quickly tapped through the cameras. Bonnie had apparently dropped something in the kitchen, as she walked out into the Dining Hall, head down, as Chica glared at her back. Freddy walked over to, and seemed to console her a bit. Bonnie perked up immediately, and began to wander down the East Hall. Chica crossed her arms, and returned to the kitchen. Freddy looked up into the camera, nodded once, then went back to straightening the askew chairs Mike and the custodian forgot to fix.

Satisfied nothing was amiss, Mike decided to check Pirate's Cove, and immediately slammed the left door shut and braced himself upon seeing the curtains wide open. Mike sat with his eyes screwed shut for several minutes, until he realized that Foxy hadn't arrived. Puzzled, Mike turned back to his tablet, making a note of the time, 2:13. Flicking through the cameras, he saw Bonnie walking back into the Dining Hall, possibly to make amends with Chica, heard the clang of pots from the disabled kitchen camera, and saw Freddy standing backstage, rearranging the spare costume suit heads.

_I really hope those are empty,_ thought Mike, and resumed his hunt for Foxy. Not finding him on any cameras and Pirate's Cove clearly empty through the open curtain, it occurred to Mike to check the blind spots. Raising the left door cautiously, he quickly shined the door light, seeing nothing but empty hall. Turning to his right, he again shined the door lights, hand tensed over the close button, but again just finding empty hallway.

Now Mike was worried. If Foxy couldn't be seen around the restaurant, _then where was he?_

_I suppose I could…ask the others,_ thought Mike, but brushed it aside. They might converse with each other, and Mike might have awkward conversations during the day, but he didn't believe the robots could really communicate aside from gestures. After all, he never heard them speak, since only the Kitchen had audio, and assumed they communicated through body language, or their screeching. But…

_I suppose there wouldn't be any harm... I could keep the doors closed, I guess,_ thought Mike. Making up his mind, Mike reached over for the intercom microphone, which was used in case of emergencies. Pressing the "transmit" key, and hoping it still worked, Mike called out.

"Um, could Freddy and his band re-report to the Security Office? The, uh, right door only please…"

Bonnie turned to look towards the speaker in the kitchen.

_Mike wants us to go to him?_ She thought. Chica was equally confused, and shot a glance at Bonnie through the dark. The animatronics had night vision installed, in order to navigate in the poorly lit Backstage, which gave them their characteristic glowing eyes. It was very useful when power was conserved at night. Dropping her pan on the table, Chica exited the kitchen and glanced back at Bonnie.

"You coming?" she asked

"Yes. Hang on," Bonnie replied.

The two walked into the dining hall, watching as an equally confused Freddy came out backstage and stepped down, waving the rabbit and chicken over to him.

"It appears Michael wants to speak with us," Freddy surmised.

"But why? He's always ignored us before," questioned Bonnie, "I doubt he trusts us."

"Beats me," Chica said, "Maybe he wants pizza?"

"I guess…" Bonnie said slowly.

"We could spend all night wondering what he wants, or we could go _find out_," Freddy said matter-of-factly, before fixing his hat and bowtie and turning smartly towards the East Hall.

"Well, hey! Hang on a second!" called Chica, following after him.

Bonnie shrugged to herself, and followed the bird.

Upon arriving at the Security Office, Bonnie was dismayed to find the door was closed, and saw Mike standing in front of his desk, hands on his hips, staring at the camera tablet with a furrowed brow. Freddy tapped on the glass.

Whirling around, Mike turned with a look of surprise on his face.

"Wow, you guys actually came! You can, uh, understand me right?" he asked.

The three, at a loss for words at their situation, slowly nodded in unison, heads jerking up and down. Mike blew out air through his mouth with a _pfff, _and ran his hand through his hair, before clicking the light switch on the right door. With Freddy and the others illuminated, Mike seemed a bit more confident.

"So, uh, where's Foxy?" he asked.

"Don't you know? You got that fancy camera thing right?" Chica immediately replied, crossing her arms.

Taken aback by her sudden speaking and very human like gesture, he stammered, "Well, um, I, er, haven't seen him on it…"

"You haven't?" asked Freddy, brows arching with surprise, "But the entire restaurant has surveillance, where could he go?"

"I was hoping you'd tell me," Mike admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"But the only place that doesn't have any cameras is outside," Bonnie supplied, "And the doors are locked."

"Yeah, I lock them as soon as the custodian leaves, I even have the keys right he- Oh no." Mike stopped mid-sentence, eyes wide.

"You didn't lose the keys, did ya?" asked Chica, narrowing her eyes, "I thought you were supposed to keep this place locked up."

"Chica, please," scolded Freddy, "Michael, did you have the keys with you?"

"Of course, I'd be fired if they found them anywhere else!" he replied.

"Bonnie, check the main entrance please," Freddy requested.

"Okay," Bonnie replied, walking away. A gasp was heard and she ran back towards the office, paws over her mouth

"What?" asked Mike nervously.

"They're open! The doors are open!" Bonnie gasped.

Foxy looked all around, this head snapping in every direction, hoping to look at everything at once. There were lights everywhere, along the street, by the buildings, everywhere! After his initial sprint from the Freddy Fazbear parking lot, he stopped in awe when he reached the main street. There wasn't anyone else moving about at this hour, so Foxy had the street to himself, and he explored every inch of it. Stopping in front of a manhole cover, he looked at it, head cocked to the right, eyes glowing in the low light. Spying a hole in the middle, he stuck his hook into it and pulled, tossing aside the heavy metal disk as he peered into the pit.

Seeing nothing of particular interest inside, Foxy continued on his way down the road, following the yellow line in the center, leaving the cover in the bushes where he threw it. Then something else caught his attention, a fire hydrant. Standing next to it, the pirate fox analyzed the dull yellow of the object in the glow of nearby street lamp, which to him made it appear like gold. Spurred on by possible treasure, Foxy did the ages-old pirate test for real gold. He crouched down and bit it. Hard. His jaws creaked, and he immediately let go, rubbing the bottom jaw as it was knocked askew. Looking at the hydrant, he saw a large dent and deep scrapes along the top where the bite was. Seeing that paint had been scraped off, revealing a dull iron color underneath, Foxy snapped his lower jaw back into place with a scowl.

_Fool's gold! I shoulda known!_ He thought angrily, and kicked the hydrant in disgust, leaving another deep dent.

Stomping back onto the road, Foxy's attention was immediately diverted by two bright lights approaching from the distance. All previous anger faded away as he watched this bizarre phenomenon. For some reason, something stirred in his memory, like a long forgotten fact suddenly brought to light by his situation. As the lights grew closer and closer, Foxy half-closed his eyes in the glare and in thought.

_Wait a minute. That there looks a lot like a-_

"Car!" he suddenly yelled, sprinting towards the bushes on the side of the road and falling inside, out of the way the approaching hunk of metal. A dreadful screech sounded, and the car screamed to a stop, tires smoking, and Foxy remained hidden as best he could in the bushes. The doors to the car opened, and 4 teens climbed out, looking around.

"What the hell was that in the middle of the road!?" the driver, a male, cried.

"I dunno man, but did you see it? It was huge!" replied another, holding his hands a large distance apart for emphasis.

"I saw it head towards the bushes!" said another, this one female, Foxy noted, pointing to his hiding place.

"We should check it out!" said the last member, swaying slightly on his feet, before he began to stumble towards the pushes, searching eagerly. Suddenly, Foxy felt a hand on his foot, and heard the teen gasp

"What the?" he said, slowly feeling his way along Foxy's legs, "There's some metal thing here!"

Upon feeling the teen's hands move, Foxy let out a deep growl through his voice box. He did _not_ like to be touched. The hand stopped, and immediately withdrew, followed by the teen, eyes wide with panic.

"Oh my God! Are those _eyes!?_" the girl cried, pointing to Foxy's glowing yellow eyes. The group slowly backed away from the bush towards their car. Tired of being touched and talked about, Foxy stood quickly out of the bushes, and screeched.

"SKREEEEE!" Foxy cried, eye patch lowered, arms above his head in a threatening position, right in front of the group.

"Holy shit!" the driver cried, and the four scrambled back into their car, and sped away.

"That'll teach ya not ta mess wit a pirate!" Foxy called after them, and briefly considered sprinting after the figures, but decided against it. They were customers, since they were outside the pizzeria, and Foxy had found something much more interesting. A row of houses.

**Author's Note: (Scroll like mad if you don't care) **

**Man, those two chapters got up quick, didn't they? **

**For those of you curious for a bit more information, and to those wondering "Why are those lines there at the end?" This is of course assuming those translated onto FanFiction. If they didn't, welp, ignore the following. Or keep going, you rebel. I like you. Anyways, I originally envisioned this series as one big story with oneshots for each chapter, until I realized that this first one kept getting longer. And longer. So I decided to split it up into multiple multi-chapter stories. If a chapter ends in a page break line, that's why. **

**Besides, I can be more detailed in descriptions and such, plus it pads out my portfolio and makes look like an author. Also, for those curious, no. I have not actually played **_**Five Nights at Freddy's**_**. This is because I am a sissy, scare easily, and wouldn't have enough Windex or laundry detergent if I were to play. Or bleach. I have however listened (not watched, mind you) several Let's Plays as well as visit the wiki for it, so I still get the basic idea. The entire concept is fascinating and damn terrifying, and I've enjoyed the other FNAF works on this site. **

**If anybody's curious as to what my penname means (I'm just reaching for topics for this A/N, huh?) Delta V stands for change in Velocity, in other words slowing down, speeding up, or changing direction. Without Delta V, you couldn't get anywhere, and you couldn't stop once you did! I like science. I want to avoid Author's Notes this long in the future, so I'm just showing my hand now since I promised not to put one at the end of chapter 1. **

**Oh, and one other thing, since this is a oneshot-turned-story, expect the next chapters fairly soon-ish, since I've already planned out this story (and the next one too, if you'd like to know.). Well, I really can't think of anything else for you guys to know about, so I guess I'll wait for some reviews, if I get some. Yup. If you've kept reading this to the end as opposed to just scrolling like mad, thank you! You're my new favorite acquaintance I won't talk to. If you kept scrolling and saw this as you hit the bottom of the page, well that's why I put these at the bottom, so you can easily ignore me. It's okay. I'm not mad. I would do it if I was you. –casual salute- See y'all in the next A/N. **


	3. Chapter 3

Mike was upset, and understandably so, Freddy sympathized. Who knew what Foxy could get up to by himself. He had never been outside, and if they were going to find him, they needed to act, and fast. Mike was pacing inside his office, muttering to himself.

"He's not going to hurt anyone, is he?" Mike suddenly asked, turning to the three animatronics, who looked at him in surprise. Freddy spoke up first.

"Of course not. At least, not intentionally. He isn't used to interacting with people, Michael, it's been decades since he could, since any of us could," he explained.

"He's not going to bite a kid, right?" Mike questioned, not listening.

"Absolutely not!" Bonnie cried, horrified at the thought, "We love kids!"

"But the Bite of '87…" Mike began.

"Oh yes, _that_ little fiasco," Freddy said, eyes drooping in memory, "We're never going to live that down, are we?"

"A kid lost his frontal lobe, Freddy!" Mike said indigently, "Of course not!"

"It wasn't a kid that got bit," Freddy explained calmly, "It was a parent, and… was unpreventable."

"So it was an accident?" questioned Mike.

"Not… exactly," Freddy began, "But first you need to understand a little bit about Foxy's programming. He's programmed to be 'captain' of his 'crew,' effectively making him feel responsible for the kids he entertained. This was done to have another responsible figure keeping the kids safe while they played."

"So? That doesn't seem so bad," Mike commented.

"And for the longest time, it wasn't," Freddy continued, "It never amounted to more than breaking up squabbles, reporting injuries, that sort of thing. But before we continue on with that, it is also important to know another… quirk. Foxy… doesn't like to be touched. Never has. If it weren't for the love of kids we all had instilled on us, he probably would never have stepped off stage and roamed around the restaurant. But back to the point.

"It was August 12, 1987, right at the end of our summertime rush, the busiest time of the year. Foxy had had a very pressing day, you have to understand, and was dealing with stress, an emotion he had never felt before. There had been a large party, much like the one you had to deal with, and, similar to you, they needed another person to help out," Freddy told.

"Let me guess: Foxy?" assumed Mike.

"Sharp as a tack, Michael," Freddy confirmed with a small smile, "Foxy was the only one of us that had a sense of protection built-in, since he operated independently of the main show floor, and at the time Management didn't question a robot acting in charge. It was clearly a little a bit too much for him to handle, and as the day wore on, he wore down. I noticed the change first. His responses were slower, required more time to act, sometimes he would stand in place for nearly a minute before figuring out where he needed to go. Once the party ended, Foxy made his way to the manager, complaining of slowing down.

"Our day manager was nice enough, and agreed to get Foxy some downtime Backstage with our mechanic, Nathan. But on the way…" Freddy's eyes seem to become unfocused, distant, as did Chica and Bonnie's.

They could see Foxy walking back slowly, his pathfinding struggling to keep up with his travel. He would stop and start, sometimes for minutes, before resuming his journey. Being surrounded by kids only seemed to make it worse, and he was forced to ignore them. Right as he reached the stage, a man yelled his name,

"Foxy!" he called, "Can I take a picture with you and my kids?"

Foxy turned and stalled, thinking up a response. But the turn and pause seemed to be a silent affirmative to the proud parent, who stepped over next to him. And reached his arm up and fumbled trying to place it across Foxy's shoulders. Suddenly Foxy's head turned to face him, and Freddy could hear him mutter something about not being touched.

The man looked at him confused, "What? C'mon, buddy, it's just a picture,"

"Dad, it's fine, leave him alone," the man's daughter told him.

The man argued back, "No! I paid money here, I should get a picture! C'mon, dear, look at the camera and smile," he said, motioning towards the nervous employee acting as photographer.

"I dunno, man," the employee said, "I'd listen to him."

"Oh, _please,_ he's just a robot! Look!" the man turned and faced the stalled Foxy, grabbing his torso and rocking him back in forth, his gyros struggling to keep balance in Foxy's slowed state. Pleased at seeing no reaction, he spoke to the employee, still facing Foxy.

"See? A bucket of bolts, so can we just get on with-," the man began, before time slowed down.

Freddy saw Foxy snap his head forward, mouth closing around the man's head, before biting down. After a long pause, the room was thrown into panic. Freddy didn't remember much after that, just a lot of screaming and him and Bonnie rushing to pull Foxy backstage.

"The rest, as some say, is history," Freddy finished. "They kept Foxy locked in the closed down Pirate Cove for a few days. During nights, I would visit, questioning him about it. No, question is too kind of a word. Interrogate is more appropriate. Apparently, he doesn't remember the event, and our mechanic confirmed he had crashed immediately after the bite. Even now he denies having partaken in such violence."

"So he's still dangerous," Mike stated, crossing his arms.

"Only if he's overwhelmed again, and most certainly not against children," Freddy argued.

"So… He won't kill anyone?" Mike asked.

"If he can help it." Freddy replied, annoyed.

"Mike, how much power is left?" Bonnie suddenly asked, "We don't want the fridges to thaw."

"Oh crap!" Mike exclaimed and pulled out his tablet. "30%, and dropping fast, it's the door and the light." A heavy pause hung in the air.

"You're going to have to open this door, Michael, if we don't want the food ruined," Freddy explained.

"But, then you guys can get in…" Mike began.

"So?" asked Chica, again narrowing her eyes.

"So… You'll… You know," Mike said, eyes closed hard.

"Mike, you're going to have to trust us, and open the door, or we'll run out of power!" Bonnie exclaimed.

Mike stayed silent, his face twisted in fear and anxiety. Then suddenly, he looked up, swallowed,

"Promise me," he said shakily.

"Pardon?" asked Freddy

"Promise me you won't hurt me." Mike repeated.

"Mike, please, we don't have time-," Freddy started.

"No, promise me you're not gonna stuff me in a suit.

Freddy looked at Bonnie and Chica, who all nodded.

"Nothing's going to happen to you, Michael. Open the door," Freddy promised.

Mike closed his eyes and pressed the release button. The door raised up and he tensed, ready for the inevitable. He felt himself get dragged forward into… a hug. He opened his eyes and saw that Bonnie was hugging him, and she let him go, glancing down embarrassed. Standing in front of the three robots, he sighed in relief.

"Do you believe us now?" asked Freddy.

"Yes. Let's go find Foxy." Mike replied, and grabbed his hat marked "SECURITY," a pair of two-way radios, again remnants of when the restaurant had daytime security, and a flashlight. He exited through the entrance, found his keys lying on the ground, before noticing the others hadn't followed him outside.

"What are you guys waiting for? If we're gonna find Foxy before you shut down at six, we need to get moving!"

"Michael, we're not _allowed_ outside," Freddy said flatly.

"Hey, _I'm_ the night guard here, I got authority. So by the power bested in, well, me, I hereby grant you permission to get the _hell_ out here!" Mike ordered.

"Well, someone got over themselves quick," quipped Chica, stepping outside.

"We're going to need to split up. Bonnie, come with me. Freddy, take Chica and this radio, we'll use it to communicate. I'm trusting you guys big on this one, you _cannot_ be seen. Last thing we need is a panic to start over rogue robots. And Bonnie, you'll have to help me keep a look out. You guys got that glowy-eyed crap that helps you see, right? Well, I don't, so watch my back, okay?"

Bonnie nodded, and Mike continued, turning to Freddy.

"I'll make sure Bonnie doesn't get spotted, but I need you two to be extra cautious. You won't have a human to keep people calm. Now, where do you think he went?" Mike said.

"Erm, well, Foxy's a pirate, so a ship?" suggested Bonnie.

"No, no, this town's land-locked. There isn't even a lake. Think harder." Mike said.

"A bar? Pirates like to drink, right?" asked Chica.

"Well, yes, but he's a kid's animatronic, so he probably doesn't think that way. Wait a minute. All the kids are locals, right? Would he go into the neighborhoods?" Mike questioned, turning to Freddy.

"It's possible." Freddy agreed.

"Then we'll head that way. Keep in contact, okay? It's the button on the side, and don't crush it, and don't hold down the button if you want to listen. Alright, take this watch, at 5:30 you three head back, with Foxy or not. Better to have just him out there then all of you. Now, let's move!" Mike ordered, and the four proceeded down the road.

Foxy was loving this whole _outside_, thing. After his run-in with the car and the "fool's gold," he once again was distracted by another completely new discovery: _houses._ Foxy had never seen a house before, but before he was disabled during the day many a little matey had shown him drawings of them. As such, Foxy was surprised to find they weren't large square boxes, but spread out across the ground, with corners and extensions jutting out. He was also fascinated by what was inside the houses as well. There were very few lights on inside them, but Foxy didn't really need them anyway.

Peering through window after window, Foxy saw a whole manner of new things. Displays like Mike's tablet, although much bigger, dominated some of the walls in the rooms he looked in. He also saw what he considered to be tiny ovens, refrigerators, and tables, none of the high-capacity stuff like back in the pizzeria. After being mesmerized by one of the displays that was left on for several minutes, a bizarre sound tore his gaze away. It sounded like a dog, but Foxy knew better. Everyone knew dogs went "Woof!" His many crews taught him. Not this irritating, high pitched _arf!_ noise. But Foxy was Captain, after all, and figuring out what made that constant, grating noise was starting to sound like an adventure!

By following the sound, Foxy was led to a small wooden gate. Glancing on the other side revealed a latch, which he opened after making sure his eye patch was in place. What kind of pirate would he be if he went on an adventure with his eye patch up? Stepping through the gate revealed the source of the noise. A small, four-legged creature stared at him, before whining and backing into a little house.

Confused, Foxy slowly and awkwardly lowered himself to his hands and knees, and poked his snout through the opening. A tiny growling sound was heard, followed by a snap of teeth

"Ow! Blazes, ya got some kind of bite there, beastie." Foxy yelped, pulling his head back and rubbing his nose in surprise rather than pain. Unbeknownst to Foxy, who sat glaring at the little cretin with his arms folded across his chest, his shout had gotten the attention of one of the house's residents, as a light flicked on in an upstairs room.

"If ye weren't such a little half-wit of a monster, I'd give ye a piece of me mind," Foxy told the dog, which suddenly turned to look at the house. Foxy followed the dog's gaze, and saw a small figure standing in the doorway of the house, staring.

_Well blow me down!_ Foxy thought, _A little matey!_ Smiling from where he sat, he raised his hook in greeting, "Ahoy there, little buccaneer! What be your name?" he called out, before scrambling to push his lower jaw back into place.

The boy, Foxy could now see, remained silent, staring wide-eyed at this large red fox, who wore an eye patch, and talked like a pirate.

"Me name's Foxy," Foxy continued, excited at the sight of a new crew member, "_Cap'n_ Foxy, to ye, but if you'd like, you can call me Cap'n."

"What are you?" the boy said.

"I'm a pirate, lad!" Foxy replied matter of fact, "Now, what be yer name?

"C-Caleb…" the boy replied.

"Pleased ta meet ya, Caleb! Say, it be a wee bit dark out, why aren't you cozied up in yer room?" Foxy asked, remembering that his little pirates needed their sleep.

"You woke me up," the boy replied, sitting down on a step, "And now I'm not tired."

"Not tired, eh? Tell ya what, why don't we go back to yer room, and I'll tell ya a story, how's that?" Foxy, asked, his grin getting bigger at the thought of telling one more story.

"…Okay," Caleb said, "But we'll have to be quiet. Mom and Dad are sleeping." The boy touched his finger to his lips to illustrate his warning.

Foxy copied his actions, and said in a low voice, "O'course, ye won't hear me make a sound!" And with that, Foxy stood and followed the boy into his house, stooping underneath the doorway, trying to be as quiet as he could, silently cursing his clunking feet.

_**A/N: Noticed something different, returning readers? For one, it's pretty ballin' you guys came back to this chapter. (By the way, new readers, you're great too). So, I completely changed the 'Bite of '87' backstory to hopefully make more sense than the old one, as well as provide a more FNAF feel and explain Foxy's actions later on. So, for those who are curious about what the old one was… It was weird. Like really weird. With kissing. Yup. This is my first rodeo, cowboys and gals, so I'm still trying to figure out what works and what doesn't, so my next one won't have to change so much. Later on, I 'spose. **_


	4. Chapter 4

The neighborhood was arranged like a giant grid, so the pairs began moving along the outermost roads first, Freddy and Chica searching windows and backyards, Mike questioning people who were up and about, without revealing too much. Bonnie did much the same as Freddy and Chica, but also kept an eye on Mike when the area became dark. After nearly 45 minutes of searching, Mike's radio squawked.

"_Michael? This is Freddy, we may have run into a problem,_" Freddy reported. Mike tensed, and after a pause, replied,

"What kind of problem?"

"_We ran into some customers. I had to do something._" Freddy sounded guilty.

"What. Did. You. Do?" Mike asked, horrid thoughts crossing his mind.

"_I think it might be best for you to come help us. It's… Interesting,_" Freddy replied.

"Freddy, don't be vague, please! Where are you?" Mike asked, "What do you see?"

"_Houses, and a mailbox labeled 'The Taylors'"_ Freddy replied.

"Do you see any street signs?"

"_Hang on. Chica, what does that sign say? Ok. We're on a street called 'Yellowbrook.' Is that close?"_

"It'll do, we're on our way," Mike said, clicking off the radio and turning to Bonnie, "C'mon Bonnie, I'm worried what they had to do."

It ended being that "interesting" stood for "we had to knock people out and tie them up with rope from a tire swing." The unfortunate pair had been out for an extremely early jog, and ran into Freddy and Chica. Seeing the robots caused them to start screaming, and Chica, startled, whacked them with her metal wings. This knocked them out cold, not dead, as Freddy had feared, and now Mike had two terrified people laying at his feet.

"What do you want with us!?" one of them, a man, replied.

"Nothing, it was an accident. I'm, uh, security for…" Mike began looking around and stopping at Freddy's top hat, "Top Hat entertainment, we were testing our… new… costumes. We're filmmakers, shooting some screen tests for a… horror movie, you know, based on that Freddy Fazbear place? Cree-eepy, let me tell you!"

"But why are we tied up?" asked the other, a woman.

"We thought you were our extras," Mike replied, before suddenly turning around, "Hey! Joey! These aren't them, cut the cameras will ya?"

"Who's Joey?" asked Bonnie, when Chica elbowed her.

"Shut up!" she hissed.

"Now, this film project is super classified, okay? You can't tell _anyone_, or we'll sue you so hard… Yeah. Untie them Fred- Jack, then let's get back to the studio, we're done filming." Mike finished his lie, hoping the joggers were too frightened to question him. He noticed the pair kept staring really closely at Freddy, spying a few of his inner workings.

"Pretty cool costumes right? Almost think they were robots." Mike gulped, and as soon as they were untied, he addressed the 'bots, "Let's go!" and the group speed walked to the center of the neighborhood, finally stopping when they reached a park, using bushes for cover.

"So, do ya think they bought it?" Chica asked with a grin.

"That really was some smooth talking, Michael, I'm impressed!" Freddy congratulated.

"Well, I got good at it in college, you know?" Mike replied with a tired smile.

"Was it really okay to lie?" Bonnie asked, concerned. She didn't like it when people lied.

"We couldn't really say the truth, now could we?" Mike replied, "It was okay just this once."

"So what now?" Chica asked, "Seems to me we're no closer to finding Foxy than he is to finding us. "

"Well, we still have two hours until six, that's enough time to keep checking the neighborhood. I'm certain he's around here," Mike assured the group, including himself.

"But how are we going to find him? Foxy's always hiding," Bonnie worried, "And what if he locks up out here? How would he get back? What if he's hurt!?"

"Bonnie, I'm sure Foxy is fine. He's a pirate, he can take care of himself. As for finding him, I suppose we could-" Freddy began, but was cut off from the sound of a door slamming, and a voice calling out.

"I'm serious babe! The thing was, like, a hundred feet tall and had a hook for a hand!" the voice slurred his words slightly, and the group could overhear a woman's voice muffled yelling.

"Aw, c'mon, don't be like that! I wasn't drinking that much, and the others saw it too! We barely escaped with our lives!" the voice responded.

"Well. That's convenient." Chica commented, and Mike was already moving towards the teen.

"Hey you! Yeah you! C'mere, I need to ask you a few questions!" Mike called out.

At around this time, Foxy had finally managed to sneak upstairs with Caleb, and had just arrived in the kid's room. It was large, and the vaulted ceiling eliminated the cramped feeling Foxy felt from being inside. As he took in the décor, Foxy grinned to himself when he saw a few beach-themed trinkets.

_The lad likes the sea. Perfect!_ He thought, happy to have a shared interest.

"Now, lad, hurry up and get in yer bed, it's much too late for a swashbuckler to be up n' about." Foxy told the boy in a low voice, "It's 'mportant to get yer shut-eye."

As the boy climbed between his sheets, Foxy looked for a place to sit and begin his tale. There was a chair, but it had been sized to Caleb, and Foxy wasn't about to try and squeeze his large frame into it. Deciding to just sit on the floor, Foxy lowered himself slowly, careful not to fall, until he managed to sit with his legs flopped out in front.

"Now then," Foxy said, "On to me tale! It was a calm morning, and me n' me first mate, Caleb, were studying an ol' treasure map. It ha' been said tha' it led to the biggest stash of gold a pirate ever laid eyes on!" Caleb lay still, enthralled by the fact Foxy had a first mate with the same name as him! The story continued, with the pair fighting off skeletons, snakes, and the dreaded Blackbeard himself! Though parts of the story were scary, Foxy and his mate always seemed to pull through, and as it continued, he noticed Foxy was becoming much more involved.

"And by the time ol' Blackbeard could get the bucket off o' his foot, Caleb had already swung back across to the _Red Fox_, key in hand! And let me tell ye, ol' Blackbeard was hoppin' mad, swinging his sword around, yellin' '_Get those bloomin' bilgerats!_'" Foxy was really getting into it now, marching around, swinging around an imaginary sword. By this point, Foxy was practically shouting as Blackbeard, and his feet clanked loudly against the floor, but he didn't care. Because to Foxy, he wasn't in Caleb's room anymore. He was back in his Cove, happily entertaining dozens of children with his antics.

It wasn't until Caleb's mother stormed in, furious,

"For goodness sake, Caleb, it's five in the morning, can't you just keep it down!?" she yelled, fuming.

"I be sorry, miss, 'twas me story making all the racket," Foxy apologized, turning to face her.

A heavy silence hung in the air. Caleb's mother stared at Foxy, mouth slowly opening in horror as Foxy's glowing eyes stared back. Suddenly, she reached out and turned on the light, revealing Foxy's battered animatronic form. Foxy's jaw slowly opened as well, as he stared curiously back. Once his jaw finally hung fully open, and exposed all his teeth, did the women react. She screamed.

"Miss, please, I'm no' gonna hurt ya', I was just helpin' young Caleb here-," Foxy tried to explain, but the woman cut him off.

"Caleb, get away from that _thing!_" she ordered, and Caleb, confused and upset by the screaming, ran to her crying. As soon as Caleb's mother grabbed him in his arms, she took off like a shot, racing downstairs.

"Lass, wait, give me a chance 'ta explain!" Foxy replied, and ran after her. This only spurred on her panic even more, and before she realized it, she was cornered in the hallway. Upon seeing this, Foxy stopped, and another stare down commenced. Caleb's mother buried her son's face into her shoulder as they continued the standoff.

Slowly, Fox took a step forward, a loud _clank_ resounding from the floor. Caleb's mother screamed again, calling to her husband. Foxy flattened his ears, when he picked up footsteps from behind him. Turning his head 180 degrees, Foxy was faced with Caleb's father, wielding a wooden baseball bat. As soon as Foxy looked at him, the man shouted, and swung his bat.

With reflexes only possible to a machine like Foxy, he whirled his torso around and caught it with his good hand. The man stared, and Foxy frowned, raising his eye patch.

"Tha' wasn't very nice," he said, annoyed the man tried to attack him. Caleb's father tried to pull the bat out of Foxy's grip, but Foxy solved the problem by snapping the bat in two. As splinters clattered to the ground, the man looked fearfully past him towards his wife and child, reminding Foxy to their existence. Turning back to once again try and explain he wasn't about to hurt them, he failed to notice the father jump on his back with a savage yell.

Foxy stiffened, and then mumbled out, "I _hate_ bein' touched, _lad._" When the man didn't cease his now useless grapple, and began to hopelessly try and punch him, Foxy reached around behind and him hoisted him around by his shirt, holding him level with his face.

"I. Hate. Bein'. _TOUCHED!_" Foxy yelled, the last word fading into a loud "SKREEE!" and in response, Caleb, his mother, and his father, began screaming at the top of their lungs.

Foxy halted his screeching and dropped the father in front of him, who backed away to stand between Foxy and Caleb's mother. They continued to scream as Foxy once again took a step forward, trying to push themselves flatter and flatter into the wall.

Foxy had had _enough._ Too many people had pushed him today, and now, when he'd _finally_ had a new crew member again, those two adults had to ruin it. He wasn't even able to explain himself! Foxy narrowed his eyes and took another menacing step, raising his hook, and the family went silent, except for Caleb, who started sobbing.

It was Caleb sobbing that stopped Foxy's advance. Having been blinded by rage and noise, he hadn't noticed Caleb was still there. Once the realization clicked, Foxy's eyes snapped open wide. He didn't want this, to see his newest matey scared, all because of him. For the first time in Foxy's existence, he had, intentionally, _scared a child._ Foxy broke the biggest taboo he knew of. The realization left him feeling sick, more so than in 1987, because this wasn't an accident. It was all. His. Fault.

Foxy slowly drooped his hook back down to his side, and lowered his eye patch, staring at the ground, ashamed. Ignoring the family, Foxy wandered back into Caleb's room, looking around. Sighing, he returned out into the hall, taking another sorrowful and guilty glance back at the petrified family, who recoiled back at his gaze, before drooping his head again and stomping downstairs, out through the open backdoor, through the fence, and out into the street.

_**A/N: Howdy. Two chapters in one day, not bad, right? This is the second to last chapter, as you could probably guess, and I'll have the last one up as soon as possible so we can conclude this little adventure. I have to admit, I probably enjoyed making Foxy scary a little bit too much. Ah, well. I also thought I would share a little nugget of advice to you fine people. I owe you that much for your reading this. So, to all you kids out there, (why are you reading this it's rated T. You rebels. I like you.): The next time a bully asks for your lunch money, tell him you left it on his mom's dresser. I'll tell you what that means when you're older. But trust me, it works. **_


	5. Chapter 5

"And he had, like, laser eyes and shit! It was horrifying!" the young man, Dennis, told Mike, "and like, 3 foot long teeth, and this hook thing!"

"Right, right, yeah, 3 foot hook, whatever, did you see where he went?" Mike asked in a rush.

"'Nah, man, we got the hell outta Dodge when it charged," Dennis said, hands spread out in a "whaddya gonna do" gesture, "Wait. He? You know that thing?"

"Sorta, look, where did you run into him?" Mike pressed. Time was running out.

"Like, a couple blocks that way," Dennis replied, pointing.

"Thanks. Look, that thing? It was for a movie, our guy just likes to mess with people," Mike lied, sticking to the movie story.

"Dude, seriously!? Am I gonna be in it? I could _totally_ be an extra for you!" Dennis looked at him, grin spreading across his face.

"Yeah, sure, fine, look I gotta go, okay? We'll call you or something," Mike said, turning to leave.

"Well, hang on, lemme get you my number," Dennis said, pulling out his phone.

"Geez, pal, my people will call your people, now I gotta _go_," Mike told Dennis, exasperated.

Mike had just started pushing past him when screams suddenly sounded out from down the street.

_Oh crap,_ Mike thought, and turned to the bushes behind him. He could make out the soft blue glow of Freddy's eyes, and from how wide they were, he had the same thought.

"The hell was that?" Dennis asked, turning toward the sound.

"Daniel," Mike began, turning back.

"Dennis,"

"Whatever, listen to me, you _really _don't wanna go over there, okay?" Mike explained, and began running towards the sound.

"Hey man, what the hell!?" Dennis called after him, until he saw Freddy and the rest follow Mike down the street.

"The shit? There's more? Oh, screw this!" Dennis shouted, running in the opposite direction.

_Oh crap, oh crap, oh SHIT,_ Mike thought, as he ran towards the screaming, speeding up when he heard Foxy's distinct "SKREEE!"

"I thought you said he wouldn't kill anyone!" Mike fired back towards Freddy, who was right behind. Freddy opened his mouth to speak, but shut it in determination, and stayed silent, looking away but still running straight.

Then the screams stopped, and Mike felt a chill run through his body. Rounding a corner, he saw Foxy sitting on the curb, head down and staring at the street.

"What did you do!?" Mike shouted, but Foxy didn't even look up, just pointed to the house behind him.

"Go, Michael, we'll take Foxy back to the pizzeria," Freddy said, pulling Foxy to his feet. Mike heard him mumble, "I wan' ta' go home."

Mike pounded on the front door.

"Hello!? Hello!? Are you guys okay!?" Mike called through the door. There was no answer, and the door didn't open. Panicking, Mike started to throw his shoulder into the door, attempting to break it down. After the third attempt, the door finally opened, revealing a wide-eyed man.

"What the hell are you trying to do!?" he demanded.

Stopping to compose himself, Mike gestured to his uniform.

"I'm the security guard. I heard screaming, are you folks alright?"

"Alright!? We had a damn monster attack us, and you ask us if we're _alright!?"_ the man screamed, furious.

"Is anyone hurt?" Mike asked.

"No, but my wife is in shock, and our boy won't stop crying!" the man explained.

Relief flooded through Mike's body, and he asked, "Can I speak with your son?"

"Why? Did you have something to do with this? I'm calling the cops!" the man yelled.

"Okay, okay, relax," Mike said, holding his hands up in front of him, "I'm just doing my job."

Eventually, Mike was able to talk the man down, and under the guise of reporting everything to the police, was able to interview their son, Caleb.

"So… What happened?" Mike asked, aware of Caleb's father standing right behind him.

"I…" Caleb began, before looking at his father, who nodded,

"It's okay, son, tell him everything that happened," he said.

Caleb stared at his father a bit longer, and Mike crouched down to his level.

"Just say what you remember, okay? I'm a guard, I'll make sure this gets fixed," Mike told him, smiling.

"Well… I heard a noise outside. Sadie was barking, and I wanted to see what it was," Caleb said, fiddling with his hands, eyes shifting from the ceiling, floor, his father, and Mike, "and I saw this thing outside. He said he was a pirate, and wanted to know what I was doing awake…"

"Go on," Mike said gently.

"I said I couldn't sleep, and he said he'd tell me a story, so I let him in…"

"You let him _inside our house!?_" Caleb's mother suddenly yelled, "How many times have we told you not to talk to strangers!?"

"But he was so nice!" Caleb replied indigently, "And for a while, we had fun! His story was great, with treasure, and Blackbeard, and gold, and-."

"What else happened?" Mike asked, trying to steer the conversation back on topic.

"Then Mama came in, and she screamed, and then Dad screamed, and then Foxy screamed…" Caleb said, starting to cry again, "Why did Foxy get so scary?"

"His name was Foxy?" Caleb's father asked, and his son nodded.

"That's… strange," Mike said awkwardly, shifting his weight back and forth

"Wait a minute… Foxy sounds familiar… Wasn't that that ani-mah-whatzit from that pizza joint? Fuzzy's or something? That attacked that guy years ago?" Caleb's father said.

"Oh, right, I remember that!" Caleb's mother agreed, eyes wide, "I remember looking that up when Lisa mentioned it. But it couldn't have been here, could it?"

Mike's eyes shifted around, suddenly remembering his uniform…

"Hey! What's that say on your shirt?" Caleb's mother asked Mike.

"Well, thank you for your time, I'll make sure the police hear about this. Ha-have a good one," Mike stammered out, before quickly exiting the house, breaking into a run outside until the house was out of sight. Letting out a sigh, he checked his watch: 5:45. Mike jogged back towards Freddy Fazbear's, spying the front doors hastily left ajar.

Mike found Freddy sitting on his stage, top hat beside him. He looked up when Mike entered.

"Foxy's back in Pirate Cove. He's pretty shaken up, but no damage. Chica's furious with him, and Bonnie's upset. They're in the kitchen," Freddy reported, a clanging confirming him.

"Thanks Freddy," Mike said, to which Freddy nodded sadly.

"That family… Were they…?" Freddy asked.

"Scared, angry, but otherwise, they're okay. I don't think they'll press the matter too much. Not like anyone's gonna believe them, anyway," Mike replied, seeing Freddy visibly relax.

"Thank goodness, I feared the worst," Freddy said, before standing up, "It's almost six, I believe, I better get the others."

As Freddy left for the kitchen, Mike walked to Pirate Cove.

"F-Foxy?" Mike called, sticking his head through the curtain nervously, "You okay?"

"Go away," he heard from the darkness.

"The family's fine, scared, but gonna live," Mike said.

"I scared 'em," Foxy said, ashamed, "I almost killed 'em."

"Yeah, that was pretty screwed up," Mike agreed. Hearing a low growl, Mike quickly added, "But you didn't, so that's good, right?"

"Bu' tha' lad," Foxy said, turning and having his glowing eyes give Mike something to talk at, "The lad wa' so frigh'end, all because o' me."

"Well," Mike said, sitting down in front of the gap in the curtain, suddenly knowing what to say, "He _did_ say he enjoyed your story…"

Foxy perked up a bit at that. "…Really?"

"Yeah. There was Blackbeard and stuff, apparently it was great," Mike told the pirate, before becoming stern, "You're still in trouble for sneaking out, and you owe me a _ton_ for covering for you."

"'M sorry 'bou tha', Mike," Foxy said, "Ye can take some o' me treasure, if ye like."

"You and I both know it's plastic, but nice try," Mike told them, and Foxy chuckled. After a short pause, Foxy spoke up again,

"Thank ye, Mike. Ye'd make a good first mate," Foxy said, before his eyes suddenly dimmed. Mike checked his watch, reading 6:00 am, and sighed.

"Well, thanks, I guess," Mike said, before checking and making sure Freddy and his band were in position. Confirming nothing was amiss, Mike greeted the morning manager at the door.

"Jesus, Mike, you look like Hell ran you over with a steamroller, was it rough?" the manager asked.

"Nah. Just another night," Mike said, exiting the restaurant.

_**A/N: Well, well, well. Looks like we're all done here. The first little venture in this series and done, and let me tell you, I really enjoyed writing it. Some of you might be surprised this was so short, and honestly, I'm surprised this is so long, since it was a one-shot originally. Thanks for reading through it, but for those of you slightly disappointed, have no fear! This is just the beginning of a series of short stories all falling under the "Just Another Night" theme I just made up. Like right now. If you've become inspired by this piece (which, honestly I'd be surprised, and this sounds pretty conceited), I urge you to write your own. This was my first story, and I was pleasantly surprised how much fun I had. If some stuff didn't go the way you wanted, I guess I'm sorry, but again, try writing your own! I have completely fallen in love with this fandom, since there's so much potential, and if this is the first story you checked out here, I urge you to check out some of the other works here. Never know what you might find. I'm starting to ramble a bit, so I'll sum things up: Thanks for reading, stay creative, and if you enjoyed this, stick around! There's more than one night, after all. **_


	6. Epilogue

**Epilogue: The Next Day**

Foxy stood motionless behind his curtain, able to see and hear, but not able to move. Freddy and the others were in a similar state, but able to alter the timing of their show to react to the audience. It wasn't a busy day, as far as Foxy could tell, and the applause was very lackluster. Par for the course these days, unfortunately. News had apparently spread about last night, and the guests could be heard talking about "this place being turned into a movie." This confused him. What movie? Maybe he'd ask Mike. Then his curtain opened, and Foxy expected to see Mike, maybe the manager, but instead, it was… _Caleb's mother._ She was accompanied by a police officer. Caleb's mother stopped and stared when she entered, and the police officer looked at her curiously, before turning to Foxy. He frowned.

"I don't know lady," he said, "Looks like this thing hasn't even been _looked at_ for decades, let alone turned on."

"But I'm sure that's what attacked us," Caleb's mother insisted, "What about that guard? I think he said his name was… what was it? Dennis?"

"Ma'am, your neighborhood doesn't employ night guards. There isn't anyone named Dennis that works in any form of private security in the area, either. Are you sure you didn't imagine anything?"

"Of course not," she replied, insulted, "I swear it happened. I've never been more scared in my entire life."

"I see… And have you and your family been taking any sort of medication?" the officer then asked.

"Don't be ridiculous! Absolutely not!" Caleb's mother replied.

"I'll need to take you down to the station and answer a few more questions. Okay?" the officer said, putting his hand on her shoulder.

"Why? This is the thing that attacked me! Arrest him or something!" Caleb's mother shouted, shaking off the officer's hand.

"Ma'am, I can't arrest an old piece of junk, and there's no evidence suggesting any part of this restaurant was responsible. There's no guard named Dennis, no signs that this thing has even moved in years. I think that there's something you're not telling us. Come on back to the station, and we'll sort this out." The officer told her, grabbing her arm and leading her out of Pirate's Cove. Caleb's mother's protests could be heard disappearing as she was escorted out of the building. The manager stuck his head in, interested in the activity, and looked at Foxy.

"I don't know what you did," he said, "And I don't want to. Whatever happens at night, that's on Mike. Eh, who am I kidding, you don't know what I'm saying anyways. Just a machine."

With that, the manager left, and Foxy was left alone. The hours passed, day turned to night, and the restaurant eventually emptied. Foxy heard the entrance open and shut twice, then Mike's voice, and the door open and shut again. When Foxy felt himself loosen up, he poked his head out of the curtain, and gave his usual gaping-jawed grin at the camera, already finding it on. Foxy decided to skip the formalities and just charge the instant the camera turned off. He saw the door was open, and Mike was sitting in his chair, looking at him, arms crossed. He jumped slightly when Foxy rounded the corner, stopping right in front of Mike, but quickly recovered.

"Not this time, Foxy. Remember when I said you owe me? And that you were still knee-deep in trouble?" Mike asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Aye," Foxy replied, raising his eye patch and closing his loose jaw.

"Well then," Mike began, standing and walking to the supply closet, "I spent the day thinking, 'What should I do?' Then I thought, 'What would a _pirate_ do as punishment?" He returned into the office with a mop and a bucket.

"I gave Jerry the night off," Mike explained, dropping the bucket and mop in front of Foxy, "So, as punishment, you need to clean the entire place. Swab the deck, that sort of thing." Mike faltered when Foxy started to growl, scowl forming on his face, taking a step forward.

_Um… Maybe this wasn't such a good idea…_ Mike suddenly thought as Foxy growled louder, until the pirate suddenly reached down and grabbed the mop and bucket.

When Foxy straightened, his scowl was replaced with a smile, and he turned on his heel and walked out. Soon Mike could hear water slopping onto the floor. He sighed, then sat in his chair, rolled up to his desk, picked up the tablet, and began flicking through the cameras.

_**A/N: Most of you probably noticed I didn't flag this story as "Complete" yesterday, when the last chapter was posted. I decided there was still a little bit more story to tell, and now I'm ready to close the book on this… well, "book." Gonna take a longer pause than usual, ironing out the details of the next installment. I plan on keeping the rapid schedule I had for this one, as I get on a roll, but give me time to get the ball rolling in the first place. Thanks for reading everyone. For now, see you on Night Two. **_


End file.
